You're very welcome
by Baird's Girl 1997
Summary: Quick Baird and Bernie story, takes place during Jacinto's Remnant. When Baird is injured during a routine patrol, he's going to have to trust Bernie to help him. Will those two ever get along? Rated T for some violence and language. (Gears of War belongs solely to Epic Games)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! Ok, so this is just a little Baird/Bernie story I've been meaning to get down. I've been reading the Gears of War books, and I have to tell you, I just love those two together! Sorry for the lame title, but I really couldn't think of anything better. This takes place during Jacintos remnant. (I know that that's a little early in Baird and Bernie's relationship, but I really liked the atmosphere around Port Farrell.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to tell me what you think! **

**(P.S I am still working on my other stories. I've just been pretty busy with school, but I promise, the longer they take to update, the better they'll be. =D ) **

Boots crunching over newly fallen snow was the only sound in the crowded forest that surrounded Port Farrell. The woods were progressively becoming devoid of wild animals ever since the refugees from Jacinto had moved in, and as Baird and Bernie walked on in silence, there was an eerie calm to the atmosphere.

The two gears had been on patrol for about an hour now, tracking a wounded locust that had escaped an ambush a few days prior. Traditionally, one grub that had gotten out of battle wouldn't have been much cause for concern. But after the hollow had been flooded, the entire race of locust was on the brink of extinction. Every single grub had to be accounted for.

"Would you please remind me why we're out here?" Baird's voice broke the silence, puffs of steam coming from his mouth while he trudged through the ankle-deep snow. Bernie had really hoped that he had found something better to do then constantly run his mouth, but once again, she rolled her eyes as he questioned her.

"Because, Blondie, we have to track down the Locust we lost the other day." She figured she wouldn't encourage him with more sarcasm, and opted for a quick answer that would shut him up.

She heard Baird scoff behind her. "I mean, why are _we _out here. I'm not going to sugar-coat things granny; _I_ don't want to be here with you, and I'm sure _you _have better things to do with your time; Knitting…or screaming at kids to get off your lawn….or sizing up coffins….." The blonde grinned sarcastically while counting each of his points on his hand.

Bernie rolled her eyes again, wishing that he would shut up. They had been on patrol for quite a while now, but not once had there been a full five minutes of silence. He was a cocky bugger, and the female gear was still trying to learn the ins and outs of his attitude.

"Because." she replied patiently, taking a few paces ahead. "They know that if you get out of line, I can give you a good smack to the jaw." The forest fell silent again, and Bernie smiled when Baird didn't come up with a quick reply.

"It's creepy how all the animals moved on. I've never been in a forest like this before…" She changed the topic before Baird had the chance to think of something.

"You know what _I_ think? I think you're still just on edge from that pack of dogs the other day. What was it that nearly took your arm off? A rabid chihuahua…?"

Bernie simply shot the mechanic a look before continuing her walk. Baird hadn't even been there when the dogs had attacked her and the rest of Delta, but saying that would only add fuel to the flames. She let it go.

They walked on for another ten minutes, Bernie constantly reminding Baird to be quiet, and to keep his eyes open for any signs of life. But no how many broken twigs, footprints, or puddles of blood they found, it didn't feel like they were making any headway. The bastard was defiantly on the move, and pretty soon it would be getting dark. She wished that they could just find him and get home already. She wasn't about to state it out loud, but the cold weather was aggravating her joints, making things even less enjoyable.

"It's friggin' cold out here." Baird piped up again, stating the obvious while shouldering his lancer. As he folded his arms over his chest, Bernie could see the tips of his fingers had defiantly turned a shade bluer in the last half hour, but she didn't know whether to feel sorry for him, or poke fun at his inexperience.

She settled on the latter.

"God, you're such a city boy Blondie. What's the matter, didn't you and your dad ever explore the great outdoors together? Y'know, father-son fishing trips or something like that?" It was Baird's turn to get teased, but she felt slightly awkward bringing up his childhood. He would get very fidgety whenever someone spoke of his parents, and Bernie continually found herself wondering if they had anything to due with Baird's perpetually bad attitude.

"Are you kidding? Leave the comfort of our mansion, with the servants, chefs and butlers? Absolutely not." Baird's voice took on a sort of posh accent, but his tone didn't sound as jokey as it did before. Other then mentioning his house, he didn't talk any further about his parents, and Bernie suddenly felt like she had crossed a line; whenever she and Baird talked on a personal level, the main goal of their conversations was to acquire firepower for their verbal sparring. But they both had common decency, and tried to avoid certain topics for each other. And that included Baird's home-life.

Bernie dropped the subject, but she felt like she should do something now for him; a sort of peace offering.

"So how bout this." She spoke up after deliberating the idea for a moment. "After we find the locust, me and you can go deer hunting. We're running low on supplies back at base anyway….and that way, I can teach you a thing or two."

"Y'know granny, I _really_ can't think of anything that would be more fun then spending the entire day with my favorite senior citizen. I mean, it's not like_ I_ had anything important to due…"

He didn't refuse her out right, so Bernie took that as a good sign.

"I'm your favorite, am I Blondie?" she smiled, making sure to keep a few paces ahead of him.

"Sure Granny. You're actually _not_ as bad as you look. Oh, but _wait_. The retirement home called earlier, and they said you're due back by six….." Baird mimicked a pout as he kept walking, ducking under low-hanging branches while jogging to catch up with Bernie. It was apparent that this terrain was familiar to her; she was weaving her way through the snow covered forest with barely any trouble, constantly leaving Baird a few feet behind. "What a shame…I was really-"

Before he could continue, Bernie stopped dead in her tracks and held up her hand. They were on the edge of the tree-line now, a large clearing in the mass of foliage directly in front of them. She signaled for Baird to stay where he was, and to shut his mouth.

He did as he was told while near silently taking his lancer back into is arms, straining to hear whatever it was that had spooked Bernie.

They waited a full two minutes in unmoving silence, listening for anything that sounded out of the ordinary.

Finally, Baird got tired of standing in one place, and was just about to voice his opinion when a twig snapped, setting both him and the older gear on sentry mode.

He got a better grip on his lancer, shifted his feet into a more steady position, and was just about to take off in the direction of the noise when Bernie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He's close." she stated while gesturing to the fresh drips of blood on the pure white snow. "I'm going to get a better view; see if I can spot him from up there." She nodded towards the large oak tree. "Since it's a clearing, you can scout ahead, and check the perimeter. But make _sure_ you stay in my line of sight."

She looked up into the branches before swinging her lancer onto her back, not quite sure how to reach the first branch.

"Don't get stuck again…" Baird quipped with a smile, bending his knees while lacing his fingers, creating a make-shift step for his female companion. It was like he had read her thoughts, but taunting her about getting stuck in a tree downplayed the kindness of his gesture.

She planted her boot into his palms with more force then necessary, using most of her weight to bounce up to the nearest branch.

"Are you sure you'll be ok while I'm gone? The sun's setting, and you get so scared in the dark…" Bernie took on a worried tone as she ambled up the tree, purposefully sending snow that had accumulated on the branches in his direction.

"You better watch who you're talking to." He was speaking through the comms now, careful to keep his voice hushed as Bernie vanished from sight, using the dead leaves at the very top of the tree for cover. "There is plenty of snow down here, and I just happen to be a master at constructing geometric shapes."

Before Bernie could figure out what he meant, a perfectly shaped snowball whizzed by her face and buried itself into the branch next to her with a resigned _puff_. Any other time, she might've thought it funny, but right now, she had nearly lost her balance thirty feet in the air.

"Baird-" she could only hiss his name through the earpiece before he cut her off.

"That was simply a warning." He stated with finality, and she watched through the scope of her sniper rifle as he started walking forward again, lancer at the ready.

"Stay north." She reminded him one more time, and, knowing that she could see him, he gave her a quick salute in response, not bothering to turn around.

Two minutes passed as Baird steadily moved forward, keeping his gun close. Both he and Bernie were straining to hear anything that would betray the locust's position, but there wasn't a sound.

He walked ten, then twenty, then thirty feet ahead, his blue eyes carefully scanning the foliage that made up the circumference of the clearing, but still no sign of the grub.

_Come on, where are you, you bastard…._

Just as Baird reached the end, he looked back at the oak tree and signaled "thumbs down".

Bernie sighed with frustration, but right before she could begin her slow descent back to the ground, a heart-stopping growl permeated her ear-piece, and she had just enough time to look back into her scope before an ugly grey form emerged from the cover of trees.

Baird had most definitely heard the grubs guttural tone, but all he could do was turn around, lancer raised, before the wounded locust slammed directly into him.

There was a split second of paralyzing fear as they both hit the ground, and it was only when Baird's voice sounded in the comms again was Bernie able to regain her focus.

"Bernie….I…. found him…." Both of Baird's hands were gripping the locust's claws, which were wrapped firmly around his neck. It was a constant struggle to keep the other pinned down; the Locust would tear his wrists away from Baird, attempt to sink them in his neck, only to have Baird grab the talons right before they could dig into his flesh. Bernie could already hear that Baird's voice was being choked back, but it wasn't until she focused in on the pair that she could see the locust was in a much better position then her companion.

"I can see that." She replied, trying to find an angle to shoot that wouldn't put Baird in any danger while wondering how he managed to retain that snarky demeanor in any situation.

As fast as she could, Bernie mentally went through the flaws and pluses to the situation; firstly, the grub was unarmed, which was a major relief in a situation like this. Also, judging by the large amounts of blood dripping from its skull, there must've been a tender area on his head. That could also serve as a weakness.

But then, the thing was on top of Baird, and their heads were defiantly too close for Bernie to want to risk a shot. Baird's lancer had been thrown aside in the tussle, and since his hands were busy keeping the grub's sharp talons away from his neck, he had no way to reach his sidearm. Plus, Bernie was too far away to get to them in time. No, sprinting thirty plus feet would've been fine. But she knew dismounting from her perch on the tree would take upwards of ten minutes. Her sniper rifle was the only viable option at the moment, but even then, what could she do?

"Mataki…..some time….today….would be fine…" Baird's ragged voice interrupted her thoughts, and she could now see small streams of blood coming from the base of his neck. It would only be a matter of time before the Locust managed to snag an artery, and then…

Bernie didn't even want to think about it.

"He's too close." her speech was still as calm as it had been twenty minutes ago, but as she stroked the trigger of the gun anxiously, she could feel her hands trembling ever so slightly. "Baird, you have to move him away from your head."

Bernie barely even heard the savage growls from the locust, as her attention was focused solely on Baird. The sound of his breathing was worrying her now; between every sharp intake of breath was a gagging cough, and she knew that it wasn't much longer until he lost consciousness.

"That….all….?" he managed between each strangled breath, hands and legs thrashing under the weight of the Locust.

Having to listen to his struggles without being able to do anything was making her sick, but she couldn't take a shot that would risk doing more harm then good.

"Bernie…..I c-can't…._shit_….." a pained cry escaped Baird's lips as the locust finally managed to pry it's wrist away, and sunk its clawed hand into the mechanic's shoulder.

Baird was now using his boots to try to get the creature off, but the thing didn't seem to feel any pain while it continually brought its free hand down wherever Baird's armor didn't cover.

"Baird...Gun!" Bernie had to raise her voice to be heard over the savage growls of the Locust, and she could only hope that he understood what she meant.

_Grab the snub pistol._

She knew that surrendering one of his hands would allow the grub more leverage, but hopefully, Baird would be able to shoot the bastard before it could inflict much more damage.

"W-hat-t?" he spoke as best he could through his harsh breathing. His face was completely pale now, and Bernie could see that his blinking was becoming rapid.

"Baird, shoot the bloody thing with your pistol!"

That time it seemed to register; just as Bernie looked down to set her gun, so she could risk doing the job herself, three shots broke the monotonous sound of their struggles, followed almost immediately by a pained scream that sent a chill down her spine.

Bernie lost no time in looking down the scope, and took aim at the Locust. Its head was now reared back with pain, and she could see distinct gunshot wounds in its upper arm. She took one steady breath while sighting the crosshair directly on the Locust's eye socket before firing.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as the gunshot sounded, it was gone, and the forest was once again enveloped in an eerily calm silence that took precedent over each of her senses.

It took half a second for Bernie to lower the gun and press her finger to her ear.

"Baird? Baird, respond." She was already moving down the limbs of the trees, adrenaline causing her to forget any previous precautions.

_Why isn't he talking to me?_

"Baird, please respond!" despite her best efforts, it still took Bernie several minutes to reach the ground. By the time she got there, sunlight had ceased to exist, and she could barely make out the battered Locust figure as she sprinted towards the only thing she could differentiate from snow; a puddle of deep red blood.

"Baird?" she skidded to a stop next to the heap of blood and brains, but hardly took notice of the Locust's cranial detritus while she knelt next to Baird, whose eyes were just beginning to flutter open.

Instinct took over, and Bernie found herself checking his pulse, even though it was evident he was waking already. It was only when she pulled her hand away from the base of his neck and saw blood covering her fingers did she remember the wounds she had noticed earlier.

"God_damnit_…" Baird's voice still sounded raspy as he sat up, the last part of the curse coming out more like a weak cough.

He had barley given Bernie eye contact before she peeled down the bloody collar of his shirt, examining the claw wounds that the grub had inflicted, along with a few purple bruises where its hand had been clamped.

"Bad?" he asked with a sigh, blinking widely while shaking his head. From what Bernie could see in the moonlight, there was already color coming back to his face, which was comforting.

"I don't think so…" she leaned back on her heals, satisfied that the cuts were only skin deep while taking a handful of snow to wash the blood off her hands. "Some disinfectant, maybe a few stitches, you'll be fine."

Wiping the remaining liquid onto the legs of her pants, she sighed before standing up.

"Glad to hear…" Baird took one more deep breath before planting his boots in the snow. He was just about to follow the older gear to her feet when he shifted his arm in front of him, and inhaled so sharply that Bernie felt her stomach knot. His legs buckled underneath him, and she could see his eyes were clamped shut with pain as he fell back to the ground. He was clutching his left arm, and his breathing sounded as if someone had just stabbed a knife between his ribs; Deep, ragged inhales, and cursory, short exhales.

"Hey...hey hey, what's wrong? Look at me, what's wrong?" Bernie was back on her knees in a flash, examining the blonde with concern while turning his head to face her.

"I don't-" he blinked widely before his eyes shut again, his breathing harsh while he cradled his arm. Bernie could see his shoulders were shaking now, and her concern gradually turned to blatant fear. "I don't know…It's my friggin' wrist." He finally managed to get the words out after several shaky breaths, his voice sounding suffocated.

"Here, let me see." Bernie hesitated before gently grabbing his forearm, careful to avoid the area in question while pulling his glove off by the fingers.

She was already going through the list of possible injuries. _It could definitely be a fracture, or a deep laceration…Hell, it might even be a really bad sprain-_

"S-shit_._" Baird's voice brought her back to the present, and it only took half a second for her to realize what had caused the curse; his wrist was red, bruised, and swollen, but what made them both cringe was the abnormal position of his hand, and the bone that was jutting unnaturally from the side where the joints were supposed to meet.

They both remained silent for half a second before Baird's eyes started shifting from the injury, then to Bernie, then back to his wrist.

"Mataki….what…the hell….." His voice was breaking now; between each sharp breath, his words were mulled with a pitiful whimper that Bernie could only recall as _severe_ pain when thinking back on the injured people she had treated.

"It's dislocated." She stated, looking in his eyes sympathetically before turning her attention back to the injury. "And we're going to have to set it."

Baird didn't even seem to hear her.

"Bernie…I can't-" he inhaled sharply again, and his entire body hunched forward. He looked like he was going to be sick. "I can't feel…my fingers."

It sounded as if he was going to start hyperventilating as his eyes remained locked on the aberrant placement of bones. "Bernie, I-I need my h-hand-" his wrist moved ever so slightly as he tried to stand, cutting his sentence off short as a pained cry escaped his lips.

"Baird, listen to me." Bernie placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in one place. She was praying that Baird hadn't gone into shock from the pain, although she didn't doubt it by the way he was rambling. She needed him to cooperate, or else permanent damage could be done.

She took his good hand in hers, making sure she had his attention. "Everything is going to be fine. Your wrist is dislocated, and you're going to have to let me set it."

There were a few seconds of silence as Baird tried to steady his abnormal breathing.

"Dislocated?" he finally repeated the word like it was the fist time she had mentioned it.

"Yeah, but your lucky; it didn't even pierce the skin."

That seemed to bring Baird back to his normal self, but that wasn't entirely a good thing.

"I'm lucky? Holy shit Mataki, I'm_ lucky_?" His voice still sounded distressed as he tried and failed for a second time to get to his feet, his legs simply falling back into the snow as he tried to stand.

"Yes Baird, you're _very_ lucky." Bernie replied, staying tolerant of his demeaning tone while keeping her hand wrapped firmly around his uninjured wrist. She knew what to do, and she also knew it was going to hurt him like hell. "I can already see where we have to place it; it'll be less then ten seconds."

"Hell no Bernie; you are not touching my wrist." There was complete sincerity in Baird's voice as he slowly brought the injured hand close to his chest, using all possible precautions to keep the injury from moving. "I am going back to base, where there is a _sterile _environment and _proper_ medical personnel. I mean it."

Bernie sighed, not for the first time thinking how much easier life would be for Baird if he wasn't so stubborn.

"We're about an hour and a half's walking distance, and right now, the way you're faring, I doubt you'd be able to get ten feet. Anyone would tell you, you _have_ to set a dislocated bone as quickly as possible, or else there could be permanent nerve damage to your hand.

"For God's sake Baird, you can't even stand up!" her tone sounded more sensitive then she would've liked as he tried once more to get to his feet, only to have the pain in his hand stifle his breathing.

They both fell silent, Baird's labored breathing the only sound in the large clearing.

"Bernie, I am not letting you touch my hand." He finally spoke again while suppressing a groan. Bernie could tell by his short sentences that exhaustion was starting to take over. His voice was sounding uncharacteristically faint as he finally managed to stand, and his shoulders and knees were shaking as he tried to find even ground to keep his balance.

Bernie, knowing that she wasn't making any headway, tried a different approach.

"Y'know what Baird? Fine. We can walk _all_ the way back to base, and, if you manage to get there, we'll have Doc Hayman set your wrist, ok?"

Isabelle Hayman was the seventy-something year old who ran the medical wing back at Port Farrell. Although she was highly esteemed for her work in the aesculapian field, what she was better known for was having the demeanor of a constantly pissed-off crab.

Baird seemed to lose any semblance of authority at the mention of her name; he stood planted where he was, his eyes moving from his hand, to Bernie, then back to his hand, as if weighing out his options.

"And_ you_ can explain why you didn't want to set it in the first place." Bernie added, and was pleased to see his expression drop.

_No, this isn't being mean._ she told herself. _It's necessary. And I'm only trying to help him._

There were a few awkward seconds of silence, and for a moment, Bernie really thought Baird was going to stick to his guns, and risk going back to base. If that should happen, she didn't even know what she'd do. But then she heard him curse under his breath, and he gave her a look that said _You're the lesser of two evils, but I'm not forgetting this any time soon._

It was all the verification Bernie needed.

"I'll be quick. I promise." She tried to keep her tone as even as possible while walking up to him, but she could already feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had dislocated a few things in the past, and in her opinion, a gunshot wound was much pleasanter then setting a disjointed bone.

She motioned for him to follow her, and they both walked to the edge of the clearing.

"Now just sit down, and try to think of something else. And if you're a good boy and don't cry, you'll get a sticker and a lollie, ok?" She figured sarcasm would make Baird more comfortable, seeing as he didn't take sincere, encouraging words well anyway.

"Oh boy." Baird really was trying to maintain his usual cynicism, which only hurt Bernie even more, because she knew how much pain he was really in. She suddenly found herself wondering if she could mask discomfort that well.

"Do you want something to bite?" she tried not to make it sound like necessity while sitting back on her heels across from him, but most of the time when people refused, they usually ended up with bloodied lips or tongues.

"Just…do it…." He stumbled with his words while slowly outstretching his wrist, the slight movement causing pain to ebb up his entire arm.

Bernie could feel her palms start to sweat as she gave the blonde one last look-over; He had defiantly grown a shade paler, and his entire form shook with the slightest movement to his wrist. He had already clamped his eyes shut, and Bernie could see his jaw muscles twitching, an indication that his teeth were clenched.

"Ok, I'm just going to put your hand here…." No matter how gentle she tried to be, afflicted whimpers were mulled with Baird's breathing as she took his injured hand in hers, and his whole form tensed up as she placed the good side of his wrist on her palm, which stayed in the position of a high-five.

"Do you think you can you keep your hand there for me?" Bernie really did need him to follow the instructions, so that she could set the bone with her free hand. But the main reason she kept talking to him was to keep him awake.

He nodded, not bothering to open his eyes as the pain ran through his entire body. Each of his senses were beginning to grow slightly fuzzy now; Bernie's voice sounding ever so distant and echo-e as he kept the side of his wrist on her palm.

_Ok._ She told herself, recalling the process that had been taught to her so many years ago._ One quick smack and…. _Bernie swallowed once more, brought her hand forward twice in a practice swing before landing her palm hard on Baird's wrist with a gut-wrenching snap of bone.

Reflexes seemed to take over at that point; As soon as Bernie's hand had hit his wrist, Baird's body lurched forward, and his already erratic breathing pattern turned into a mix of coughs, gagging, and something that sounded like choked sobs.

She had half expected him to pass out once the bone popped back into place, but when he remained conscience, she wasn't quite sure what to do, except make sure air was getting to his lungs so he didn't hyperventilate.

"Breathe. Hey, take a breath sweetheart, it's alright. Your ok." She placed a hand on the back of his neck while his body struggled to regain a conventional semblance of regularity. It looked like he had forgotten _how_ to breathe as he leaned forward, both hands shaking as badly as if he was having a seizure. Bernie knew that these were regular symptoms, but that didn't make it any easier to watch as she remained diligently at his side as he struggled to take in air.

The one comfort she could take was glancing at his wrist occasionally, noting the perfectly shaped bone; if it hadn't been for the swelling, she wouldn't even been able to tell that it had been dislocated.

His breathing had hardly improved after another two and half minutes, and Bernie started wondering whether or not they'd might need an evac when Baird turned to his side and started vomiting.

Bernie immediately felt her heart jump in her throat, the unexpected action causing her to inhale sharply. Her mind began racing through any medical advice she had acquired over the years, but at that moment, nothing seemed logical. She remained confused and worried for several moments before remembering something that had once been told to her; _there is a threshold in the brain that triggers nausea when your body experiences too much pain to cope with._

Bernie cringed inwardly while trying not to imagine how it felt to have your body so wound up on adrenaline that you couldn't even pass out from excessive amounts of pain.

"Sweetheart, are you ok?" she finally found her voice, and placed her hand on his back as he wiped his mouth.

She felt horrible for him, but there was really nothing she could do but wait as his breathing was reduced to suppressed coughs.

"Y-yeah." He blinked tightly, still trying to catch his breath while leaning back against a tree trunk.

Bernie waited a few minutes, sitting close while giving him time to breath.

Although he looked slightly drowsy, she could tell that the pain was much less severe now; he had brought his hand back to his chest, but the movement had caused nothing more then a slight cringe.

They waited for what felt like hours, Bernie watching as Baird tried to blink the pained expression off his face, straightening his shoulders while sighing deeply.

"Here, let me see your hand." She finally broke the silence of the wooded area, and Baird seemed to hesitate before reaching his arm out to the older gear.

"Can you move your fingers?" Now that the immediate pain had subsided, she needed to make sure he had movement of the joints. She brought her own fingers up and down in a fluid movement, giving him a gesture to mirror. He repeated the action, albeit in a slightly slower fashion.

"Good. Now just put your wrist in the snow. It will take down the swelling, and it might help numb the pain a little."

If Baird had any opinions for this situation, he didn't bother to voice them, instead gently placed his arm in the cold white fluff obediently.

A slight moan escaped his lips while he leaned in, and Bernie's brow furrowed with concern.

"Does it still hurt that bad?" she asked, hoping there was no permanent damage to his wrist.

"No, it's friggin' cold." He replied seriously, but Bernie couldn't help but laugh at his complaint.

"It's not funny." He shot her a humored look before using his good hand to grab a fistful of snow and threw it at her. She laughed again while shielding her face. It was a tempting thought to return fire, but Bernie figured it'd be best not to give Baird hypothermia as well as a dislocated wrist. Besides, Frost had just started, and there would be plenty more snow in the months to come.

After several minutes of keeping his wrist down, Baird examined the injury with minor interest before gently dusting off the excess moisture while bringing his arm close to his chest once more.

"You ready to go?" he carefully rolled down the sleeve of his shirt while standing, steadying himself against the tree trunk for a moment as if unsure of himself.

"Are _you_?" she asked with mild but genuine concern, eyes traveling from his wrist, then up to his neck where dried blood and bruises made the injuries look worse then they really were. The pain didn't stop immediately after a dislocated bone was set, so she knew more then half of his reassurances would be an act.

"Yeah. That wasn't so bad." He replied casually, but cringed when his wrist bumped into the armor plate on his chest.

Bernie had to remind herself not to laugh.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Baird rolled his eyes, but stretched his good arm out to her.

She was surprised at his gesture, but quickly regretted trusting him as he brought her up halfway, and then let her hand go, causing her to fall back into the wet snow.

"You di-"

"Nice shot by the way." He called over his shoulder while walking over to the Locust in the clearing to retrieve his lancer. "Took you long enough…" he added under his breath with a smirk.

"Your _welcome_." Bernie dusted off the seat of her pants while following him.

_Good. _She thought._ Back to his annoying self._

No matter how irritating Baird could be, she knew he wasn't a _bad_ person, and seeing him suffer the way he had wasn't fair. She would much rather he be an idiot.

"Hey granny," he called again, wrestling with the heavy gun awkwardly in one hand. In the end, he opted to shoulder it, and drew his snub pistol instead. "I'm still game for some hunting. I mean, if your arthritis is bothering you too much, I understand."

Bernie smiled to herself, knowing that the mention of someone else's pain was his prideful way of saying he was still in discomfort. An ace bandage, a few pain pills and a warm bed would do him a world of good.

"Nah. Looks like the weathers' going to shit anyway. We better start heading back; it's a long walk."

Bernie would let the insult go this time. She figured Baird was like an abused puppy; if you treat him with enough kindness, he'll start to trust you after awhile.

"Whatever you say Mataki." He tried to sound like his normal, self-important self, but Bernie picked up something in his tone that defiantly sounded grateful.

They both started crunching through the snow, Bernie keeping a cautious eye on the younger gear just in case he wasn't feeling as ok as he said.

They trudged on silently for a few minutes, and Bernie was just starting to think that the walk home would be pleasantly silent when Baird spoke up again.

"Hey Bernie?"

She sighed while turning around, not bothering to stop her walk.

"Yeah Baird?" She was ready for an insult, or a joke, but decided to let it go today, all things considered.

The blonde looked down at his hand before continuing, letting the tips of his fingers bend down to his palm, as if making sure everything still worked.

"Um…Thanks. Y'know, for…" he nodded to his wrist, letting the gesture finish his sentence.

His statement astonished her, but it was defiantly a welcome surprise.

Bernie smiled as she turned back around.

_He's really not so bad after all…._

"You're very welcome Blondie."


End file.
